


In Opiates Veritas

by ddagent



Category: Holby City
Genre: Although it really should be morphine based confessions, Drunken Confessions, Episode Remix, F/F, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 02:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9857717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: Bernie is high as a kite on morphine and confesses a few secrets to Serena (and the rest of the ward). A remix of 17.29, 'Small Disappointments'.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I was talking with the amazing ktlsyrtis about remixing old Serena episodes with Bernie and I mentioned rewriting Angus as Bernie in 17.29. Cue matildaswan prompting me and here we go. It's been a while since I've written anything, so this is quite exciting. I hope you enjoy!

As she left the office of the CEO for her ward, Serena Campbell wondered if she could murder Guy Self and claim that it was in the best interests of Holby City Hospital, nay the NHS at large. It had barely been a week since Guy had stepped down yet he continued to make her life a misery. Whether it was treating her like a child wearing her mother’s heels or selfishly snatching at the budgets of other departments, Serena was becoming increasingly close to shoving her new shoes in a place where the sun refused to shine.

Pushing down the urge to have a glass of Shiraz at eleven o’clock in the morning, Serena rounded the final corner on her way to AAU. She heard the drill sergeant voice before she saw them; four members of her team who really _ought_ to know better. Doctors Digby and di Lucca in their pastel blue scrubs and _absurd_ cardboard hats. Nurse Fletcher all puffed up trying not to smirk. Ms Wolfe, back straight and RAMC beret resting just atop her head. All saluting _her_. Suddenly all thoughts of Guy Self floated away.

“What on _earth_ are you doing?”

Fletch grinned. “I do believe the technical term is kissing up, ma’am, in the hope that you’d remember us kindly when you ascend.”

Serena rolled her eyes at the four of them, pushing past the rabble to continue on to AAU.  “Ascend?”

Doctor Digby spoke this time, stepping away from Bernie as she tried to teach him how to hold position properly. “There’s a rumour going round that you’re taking over from Mister Self.”

“More than just a rumour,” Fletch added. “Apparently there’s a book running that has you 2:1 hot favourite. Not that I’ve had any of that action; gambling is a filthy habit.”

Somehow, Serena didn’t quite believe him. The Fletcher poker game on the first Friday of every month had quite the reputation, if only that it paid for Serena’s Shiraz on a Saturday when her fellow consultant had experienced a lucky streak the night before. She appreciated Fletch’s faith in her, _all_ their faith in her, although she wasn’t quite sure that that faith was shared by the board. “And what makes you think I’d still want to do it?”

“Money.”

“Power.”

“I’ve already got those,” Serena smirked, stepping past Doctor Digby as the five of them arrived on AAU. “Right, be gone you lot. You’re giving me a headache.”

Fletch, Raf, and Doctor Digby quickly left her sight, heading off to complete their morning rounds. Bernie remained, still standing to attention. Serena reached up and tweaked her beret. “Why do I have a feeling that this was your idea?”

A shrug; a smirk that suggested butter wouldn’t melt. “I merely gave them some pointers.”

“Hmm.” Serena couldn’t chastise Bernie too hard. Seeing the four of them make a fool out of themselves was likely to be the best part of her day. Well, just the _three,_ if she was being truly honest _._ Bernie’s RAMC beret was rather adorable. She was, however, a little disappointed that her fellow consultant hadn’t gone the whole nine yards and worn her old army fatigues as well. “Back to business, Ms Wolfe. How’s the ward looking?”

Serena strolled into her office, Bernie following close behind as she updated her on the state of AAU. “It’s quiet today; Raf and I can handle things if you need to be elsewhere.”

“Thank you, I think I’ll take you up on that. The board want me to put together a shortlist for the CEO position.” There were only a handful of names on the list, her own crossed out twice. On the desk beside that list was a fresh takeaway coffee from Pulses and a pain au chocolate. Forehead knotting in confusion, Serena lifted the coffee in Bernie’s direction. “Is this from you?”

A nod. “Consider it a good luck coffee. You’ll be an amazing CEO, Serena. They’d be _fools_ not to hire you.”

Serena attributed the warmth running through her system to the coffee, and not the lazy smile the trauma surgeon was throwing her. “Well, we’ll see. I suppose if I can get _you_ onside then I get anyone onside.”

Bernie chuckled, Serena quickly finding her own laughter bubble up inside of her. Serena had not been Bernie’s favourite person when she’d arrived at Holby City three years ago. She’d been dedicated to efficiency, budgetary expenditure. Bernie, on the other hand, still treated the hospital like Afghanistan and cared little for waiting time targets or the paperwork that came along with them. Still, they’d fought their way through. Somehow, Bernie had become Serena’s closest friend. Perhaps even more, if Serena was being honest with herself.

A knock at the door. _Angus._ “Sorry to disturb, but we need to talk. The Board.”

Bernie leapt from her seat. “Say no more.” She threw Serena a salute before heading back out onto the ward. “Ms Campbell.”

That woman would be the death of her.

\-- 

Her day had taken a turn for the worse and not even Bernie Wolfe in a beret could turn it around. The Board had no intention of offering her the CEO job. Instead, she had to put her tail between her legs and feel out _Olivia Sharpe_. Serena was grateful for the emergency on the ward, needing the respite of patient care to clear her head. She’d already decided on an extra-large glass of Shiraz at Albie’s once her shift was over. Serena briefly wondered if there was anything left over from Bernie’s poker winnings. A bottle would go down a treat.

She just had to get past the current crisis with the board – and Angus – first. She’d certainly feel a lot better if the Chairman of the Board wasn’t following her around like a lost puppy. “Impressive work.”

“Ms Campbell is the best, Mister Farrell. You’ll find no one better at Holby City,” Bernie chimed in from a nearby hospital bed.  

Serena mouthed _thank you_ to Bernie as she passed her, pushing down the jolt in her stomach at her friend’s kind words. Bernie always had her back. The same could not be said for the Board. “Shall we continue our discussion in my office, Angus, or-“

Suddenly, Serena felt the ground go out from underneath her. Her lower back and bum smacked against the wet linoleum; the air immediately knocked out of her. _How embarrassing._ It would be rather less embarrassing if it wasn’t happening for the second time that day. _Bloody new shoes._ All around her the ward had stopped; staff and patients now fixated as they stared at Serena Campbell on her back like an upside-down tortoise.

Angus didn’t move. Just stared. “Are you alright?”

Serena just rolled her eyes. “Well _obviously_ not. A little help please; this is _horribly_ undignified.”

Chivalry, it seemed, was lost on members of the Holby board but _not_ on former members of the RAMC. As Angus shuffled forward to assist Serena off the floor, Bernie was already making large strides in her direction. “Need a hand?”

Bernie’s outstretched hand locked around Serena’s, and she felt the strength of the former army medic as she tried to lift her to her feet. Memories of an arm wrestling competition when Serena was first relegated to AAU flashed in front of her eyes, but they quickly disappeared when Bernie lost her footing. The sound of Bernie’s shoulder smacking into the linoleum echoed in her ears, but was quickly forgotten due to the presence of a warm hand pressed against Serena’s breast. _Oh god. Not here, not now._

“Buying me a coffee and a pastry does _not_ mean you get to cop a feel, Ms Wolfe.”

The blonde immediately yanked her hand away; an action that led to a scream hissed between gritted teeth. “Apologies, Ms Campbell. I think I’ve dislocated my shoulder.”

Knowing Bernie’s medical history, Serena immediately pushed herself into a sitting position. She attended to her friend, noticing the sweat beading on her forehead. “You’ll be alright, Bernie. Can I get a little help here, please?”

The bite in her voice quickly summoned her winged monkeys. Whilst Angus stood around aimlessly, Doctor Digby helped her up off the floor and Fletch and Raf manoeuvred Bernie onto a nearby bed. Serena had seen Bernie ill with the flu, and her hair always needed a good brush. But this was the worst she’d ever seen the trauma surgeon: a sickly, pallid complexion; sweat sticking blonde strands to her forehead. Bernie was struggling to keep her breathing steady.

“Right, Doctor Digby get some pain relief for Ms Wolfe. I want a standard x-ray for the shoulder and another to make sure there’s no damage to the spine.” Serena touched Bernie’s hand, the consultant squeezing right back. “I just need to have a word with Angus. Arthur will take good care of you.”

Reluctantly, Serena left Bernie’s side and gingerly crossed the ward to talk to Angus. The business with the Board had left him tense; the collar of his shirt constantly plucked and teased as he tried to regain his composure. Serena herself had spent the last few days anxious over the fate of the CEO position. But in sixty seconds flat her priorities had changed.

“Will she be alright?”

Serena nodded. “Ms Wolfe is the toughest doctor at Holby City. She’ll be fine. But we’re now a surgeon down so I’m needed here. I’ll do what I can to feel out Olivia Sharpe.”

“Good.” Angus paused, considering his next words. “If it’s any consolation, Serena, you were my first choice. But the Board had their reservations. They thought you’d be unable to hold your own against Guy.”

“I see.” She swallowed, painting on a thin smile. “Well, I had better go attend to Ms Wolfe. A pleasure, as always, Angus.”

Fuchsia heels clacked against the linoleum floor as Serena returned to Bernie’s bedside. Anger radiated out of every pore; an increasing bitterness that her work – _everything she had done for this hospital –_ had been underwritten by the comments of a misogynistic assembly who had never held a scalpel in their lives. But Serena felt that anger fade as she approached Bernie; her priorities once again shifting into place.

“Doctor Digby, _please,_ I’m-“ A hiss of pain and a rather inappropriate curse came out of Bernie’s mouth as she moved her shoulder too far. “I don’t need that, Arthur, please.”

Serena shook her head at Bernie’s attempts to refuse pain relief. “Ms Wolfe, please don’t tell me that you are being one of _those_ patients.”

“I’ll be fine without it.”

“Bernie, just take the morphine.” She squeezed her friend’s good shoulder, trying desperately to get her to relax. “We still need to complete the x-rays and that might take a while. I can’t have you screaming down my ward.”

Blonde hair shook itself out of the tie it was in. “I’ll be- I’ll be _fine,_ Serena. There are other patients who need it more.”

“We’re not in the bloody Somme; Holby City can stretch to giving you morphine to help with the pain.” Pushing past Doctor Digby, Serena took control of the syringe. “For me, Bernie?”

A low blow, perhaps, but one that always seemed to work. Bernie gave her consent; a tiny nod that signalled that Serena had worn her down. Smiling, she pressed her thumb against the plunger, watching as the morphine entered Bernie’s system. It didn’t take long for her shoulders to drop, the pain ebbing away in favour of the drugs in her bloodstream. It also didn’t take long for the trauma surgeon to descend into a fit of giggles. She raised her good arm in a mock salute, smiling widely at Serena.

“Well look at that, the pain’s gone! You’re a _genius._ ”

Turning away from the giggling mess that was her trauma surgeon, Serena fixed Doctor Digby with a stare. “Exactly how much morphine _was_ that?”

“Right, well I wasn’t going to put the whole lot in.”

Bernie whistling the tune to _Dad’s Army_ whilst saluting Fletch attending the next bed over was enough to leave Serena in her own fit of laughter. She’d known Bernie to have a laugh with them at Albie’s, but she always carried with her a good sense of British Reserve. Seeing Bernie unfiltered might just save her day after all.

\--

Having Bernie high as a kite was definitely the lift that Serena had needed. So far the trauma surgeon had tried to get out of bed twice, whistled the theme tune to _Dad’s Army, Allo Allo_ and _The Great Escape,_ as well as enjoyed a spirited debate with Doctor Digby about the benefits of Napoleon before Raf had required him in surgery. Bernie had given them enough ammunition for the next few months. Unfortunately, her morphine high was only masking the vast amount of pain she was actually in.

“Well, the x-rays came back clear. No fractures and you haven’t injured your spine.” Serena squeezed Bernie’s hand. “So, good news, I get to re-set your shoulder.”

Serena wasn’t sure if Bernie had heard a single word, as the trauma surgeon had become fixated by Serena’s hands. She examined each in turn, before pressing her lips to the tip of each finger.

“You have beautiful hands, Serena. Really, _really_ beautiful.”

In the bay next to them, Fletch sniggered. Serena tried to reclaim the use of her hand, but Bernie wasn’t budging. “Well, thank you.”

“ _So beautiful_. Beautiful hands, beautiful arms, beautiful legs…” Bernie threw her a lazy grin, her eyes roaming up and down Serena’s form. She felt herself flush under the intense attention of the trauma surgeon. “You know, I’ve travelled to five different continents and you are… _by far…_ the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

“ _Right._ Okay.”

Serena suddenly felt three pairs of eyes on them, intently watching their exchange. She tried to regain her composure; tried not to focus on the dark eyes undressing her or the warmth in the pit of her stomach at Bernie’s confession. In the three years that they’d been at Holby together, not _once_ had Bernie given her any indication that she wanted Serena as anything more than a friend. Flirtatious back and forth and the regular treats of coffee and Shiraz had not, in Serena’s mind, suggested any serious interest. Perhaps she had been mistaken.  

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Serena watched Fletch, Raf and Doctor Digby try and hide their laughter. “Well, now you’ve told the whole ward.”

“Never found the courage, Serena.” Bernie’s fingers tugged at the sleeve of her blouse. “Didn’t think you could ever want me.”

Serena was rendered speechless; torn between telling her just how much she _did_ want her, and shaking her stupid for doing this _in front of the entire ward._ “Well high grade opiates are just as good as whiskey for Dutch courage.”

“I wanted you. Right from the moment you _swept_ onto my ward and caused havoc. You turned my life upside down.” Another little tug. “You made me realise what I wanted, Serena.”

“Right.”

Bernie ignored the chorus of chuckles by the nurse’s station as she continued to profess her feelings. “Can I tell you something?”

Serena felt herself groan. “As if I could stop you.”

She giggled, leaning into whisper in a pantomime fashion. “I didn’t want you to get the CEO job.”

“I’m sorry?” Serena felt like she had been punched in the gut. _She didn’t want her to get the job? Bernie had_ lied _to her?_

The fingers tugging at her blouse became insistent once more. “I’m _awful. Awful, awful_ friend. But if you became CEO then we wouldn’t work together anymore. And if you became CEO then there would be no chance you would ever say _yes_ if I ever asked you to dinner.”

“I see.” Serena was tired of this conversation. She was tired of being made a fool of, especially by the person she held most dear. “Right, now this may hurt even with the morphine.” 

“Will you? Have dinner with me?”

Serena chose that moment to wrench Bernie’s shoulder back in place. Unfortunately, the momentum took Serena by surprise and she ended up strewn across Bernie’s lap. The peanut gallery descended into laughter, and, as Serena glanced up, she realised that Guy Self had joined them. The former CEO and future murder victim began to applaud at the picture the two consultants made: Serena with her hair strewn in every direction; Bernie’s chest heaving from the pain.

“Was it as good for you as it was for her?”

Before Serena could compose herself, a morphine addled Bernie took charge. “Oh _fuck off_ Guy.”

The image of Guy Self slinking out of AAU after being chastised by an injured trauma surgeon was the only reason that Bernie would be surviving her shift in one piece. But Serena felt that she needed some distance between herself and Bernie. So as soon as she could, she left her in Doctor Digby’s capable hands and made her escape.

\--

Serena had to return to the ward eventually. She would rather be on AAU than with Guy Self anyway. His smirk, that smug, _arrogant_ grin, would hopefully not last for long. The Board didn’t think she was capable, but she had more than a few tricks up her sleeve. One of which was tall, Swedish, and still carried a reputation in these very halls. Serena only hoped it would be enough to tempt the Board away from Olivia Sharpe and Guy’s neuro-centre. Henrik would support the necessary funding for the updates to Bernie’s trauma bay. Not that she deserved it right now.

Stepping onto AAU, Serena quickly tracked down Fletch. He was with Doctor Digby, reviewing the notes of one of their patients. If there was any gossip floating around about Olivia Sharpe, Serena wanted to hear it. “Odds on the new CEO position?”

“Uh, well,” Fletch said, clearly flustered. “Actually the betting’s seemed to have moved into a new market.”

 _Oh god._ “Which is?”

Nurse Fletcher actually had the _audacity_ to grin. “Whether you and Bernie are going to go out for dinner or not.”

“ _Wonderful_.”

Doctor Digby, completely unaware of just how thin the ice he was skating upon was, joined in. “There’s also a sub-market on how far she’ll get on the first date.” Thankfully he wilted under Serena’s glare. “Which is a thoroughly _grubby_ thing to be speculating on.”

Serena’s disapproving look quickly sent both men packing, leaving her to curse at any deity who was listening. She had thought the worst this day could throw at her was _Guy Self._ Instead she was the laughing stock of the ward, the target of the morphine-addled advances of her fellow consultant and perhaps former friend. “Well this is rapidly turning into the most humiliating day of my life!”

Raf, to his credit, tried his best to reassure her. “What’s there to be embarrassed about? Bernie’s a beautiful woman, she’s available, and she _clearly_ fancies you.” 

Serena scoffed. “She was high as a kite! She’s never given _any_ indication that she’s felt this way before.”

“In Opiates Veritas,” he chuckled. “You’re an attractive, successful, talented woman, Serena. You don’t have to be high as a kite to see that.” Serena beamed. “ _And,_ it’s been fairly obvious to everyone on this ward that she’s had a crush on you for ages. I’m out fifty pounds because I thought she would have asked you out by now. Maybe she just needs the right push.”

With a reassuring smile, Raf left her alone to her thoughts. She quickly sought out Bernie; the blonde sleeping awkwardly against hospital pillows. Serena wondered if she _had_ missed out on three years’ worth of lingering looks, soft smiles aimed just for her. She considered whether every coffee, every hour she had worked late and every lift home had been part of Bernie’s way of saying _I like you._ Words had never been Bernie’s forte. It had taken her over twenty years to admit to her husband that she was both unhappy _and_ gay. How long would it have taken for her to admit what she had today?

Crossing over the ward to Bernie’s beside, Serena decided it had been long enough. Bernie began to stir when Serena arrived, and she quickly drew the curtain around her bed to give them both a little privacy. “How are you feeling, Major?” 

“My mouth tastes like a university hall of residence.” Bernie winced as she moved her shoulder. “And I feel like I’ve been run over by a car. I probably should be, after what I said. I’m so, _so_ sorry Serena. I would never embarrass…never _do_ that to you if I hadn’t been so...I completely understand if you want me transferred to another ward.”

“I don’t want that.” Serena took up Bernie’s hand, holding it within her own. Bernie’s gaze met hers. “What I _want_ is for you to be honest with me. Honest about how you feel. You can profess your love in front of the entire Board for all I care. I just want you to tell _me._ ”

Serena felt like an entire hour had gone by before Bernie spoke again. “I like you.”

She beamed. “A good start, Ms Wolfe.”

Bernie swallowed, squirming in the hospital bed. Yet she still clutched Serena’s hand. “I _more_ than like you. But you’re my best friend. I can’t…I can’t lose you, Serena.”

Serena reached across, brushing Bernie’s fringe out of her eyes. She leant in to her touch. “So you’ve already planned our break up before you even asked me to dinner.”

Bernie bowed her head. “Yes. In that I kept talking myself out of ever asking you out. _I’ll ruin everything; you’re not interested._ I’d accepted that I had an absurd crush on my heterosexual best friend.”

“Oh Bernie.” Serena let her fingertips linger against her cheek, her jaw. “You have an _adorable_ crush on your _bisexual_ best friend. You won’t lose me. Not ever. Not even to the CEO job you secretly didn’t want me to take.” Serena paused, swallowing. “ _They don’t want me_.”

“ _Serena_.” Bernie ran her thumb across the back of Serena’s hand, offering her a sliver of comfort. “You would make an _amazing_ CEO. As much as I hated the thought of losing you, there is no one better.”

Serena held tight to Bernie’s hand, needing the anchor of her best friend. She hadn’t even planned to take the job. Didn’t want to leave the ward, didn’t want to leave Bernie. She just wanted to be considered, and in the end they hadn’t even done that. But she was Bernie’s first choice. The highest name on a shortlist of one. That was enough. _She_ was enough.

“At least there’s a silver lining to this whole thing. Not being CEO means you can pick me up this Saturday night and take me to dinner. That is, if you still want to?”

Bernie’s head bounced, her hand squeezing Serena’s hard enough to crush bone. “Eight o’clock alright?”

“It’s perfect.”

They talked for a little while, Serena filling Bernie in on the twists and turns of the new CEO position until the painkillers took hold once more. Serena still held her hand, unwilling to let go lest she woke up from falling down and it was all a dream. _Stupid shoes._ She’d fallen down twice today; three times if she counted the Board knocking her down. _Four,_ if she counted falling for Bernie Wolfe. But that had happened a long time ago, and this time she had been caught.


End file.
